28 Fyrva, 350BFD, 15 Ur 30
Northgate, Shevezz City
Findat wheezed slightly as he reached the entrance kiosk and took a moment to calm himself. Unlocking the gate, he drained half of the water that remained in the clerk's usual work environment.
"Clearly, our heat-seeking visitor is not the only one trying to solve Shevezz's water problem on their own," he mused.
The promised note, he was relieved to see, was sat under an ink pot, which he slid to the side so he could read it in the kiosk's shade. His expression changed from irritation at Vazkyr's almost illegible handwriting to one of shock at the implications of the message.
"Impossible," he whispered, before correcting himself, "no, just improbable. But...the evidence..."
The pile of tainted feathers may as well have been a grave. Unlike most creatures, the Aevyormii dissipated upon death. In a natural circumstances, they spilled no blood. The blue tips on these plumes meant there were either some injured, distressed friends out there, or signified a much greater danger. A threat, he knew, that would have to be strong enough or large enough to overwhelm a people knowing powerful shielding and healing magicks.
So, Findat thought,
we now have two problems.
"The Aevyormii are, or were, allies. No, they are
friends," he tried to tell himself quietly, but in a more assured tone than he felt, "and we must know what has happened to them. But they were also our source of fresh water and we typically only keep two days' worth of supply."
He tapped his foot restlessly. The correct answer was to verify the state of affairs at the Nectar Glen, as Vazkyr had suggested. But he did not wish to arrive in a manner that might disturb Shevezzi relations with them, which would be the case if he found nothing of concern at An'bé'zel.
"It's time to pull rank," he decided, "so much for my time off."
Five minutes later, a replacement welcome clerk was in place to ensure Vazkyr did not set out before being granted authorization. He only hoped the handling of Sair-Kor would distract her long enough. He left an additional note with the clerk to update Kykass upon his return, but in terminology he, and not the clerk, would understand - and to apologise to any supply manager he had found.
He’s unlikely to have discovered one at his rank. At least, not one willing enough to forego their evening meal without hard evidence.
He took a deep breath, turned and made for the administrative quarter, which nestled against the Palace complex, two floors below ground.
21 Ur, Public Medical Facilities
Level One, Shevezz City
Kanda, with eyes feeling like they had been stuck with fresh tree sap, frowned and breathed a strangely comforting, herbal scent from his head cushion.
I've never owned a herbal cushion, he thought in confusion, attempting to rub his eyes with arms that seemed to him weighed down with a thousand boulders, and groaned with the effort.
That sound alerted both a member of the medical team and Vazkyr, who had remained with him, calmer in the knowledge that she could trust Findat with her Aevyormii concerns.
"Steady, now Sair-Kor," she soothed gently, "you're with us, and you're safe."
"With... who? Safe... where?" he mumbled.
"You're in the general, public medical wing of Shevezz," a Watcher replied in a curt, matter-of-fact tone.
Watchers were, as the title suggests, employed to watch patients and, more importantly, to keep strict records of their states. The position also included training ahead of their promotion to the Carers, those who used data gathered by the Watchers, applied their own knowledge then dispensed treatment, medication and adjusted patients' environment where it was both feasible and required. Being scrupulous, it was often difficult training Watchers to both care and show it. Syndat, a native Elelup Watcher, was one such medic.
"But I am not...ill," Kanda weakly protested.
"You
were not ill," Syndat stated, making notes on his pad of recycled paper, "but you did not drink enough, so
now you
are ill."
Vazkyr rolled her eyes and reached a hand out to touch where Kanda's shoulder would be under the soft, wool sheets that kept him warm enough in the chilled, medical building.
"I'm Vazkyr. You don't know my name, but I checked you in," she reminded him.
"I was... with Findat," he mumbled in reply.
"He was, uhm, called away on an urgent matter. He's left me to make sure we treat you well, not just medically."
"Hmf, we treat everyone well here, " Syndat replied, indignant, "we waste resources if we don't."
Vazkyr scowled.
"Oh," Syndat continued before the clerk could respond, "what is your present address, Sair-Kor?"
His patient laughed hoarsely, taking the medic aback. Rolling over, Kanda forced himself to wave an arm in a direction that seemed the least difficult to do.
"Fourth tree to the East. The random, probably unnamed group of trees, North-East of Shevezz. That a good enough address?"
Syndat blinked a few times and looked at his notes.
"Still delirious, I see."
Vazkyr turned to him and shook her head.
"Actually, that's correct. More or less. I processed his details this morning."
"Then should you not be at your post, changing shifts, or at home by now?"
The clerk stood, her bright eyes, almost shining against the deep shades of her face seemed to burn into his own.
"On whose instructions was I asked to be here, Syndat?" She demanded.
The medic glanced down at his notes.
"Findat Kyrn, oh," he realised, "an Overseer. Is he a relative of yours? Actually, ignore that," he babbled, "do stay as long as you need, Mair-Vazkyr."
With that, he turned sharply on his heels to pass his notes to a Carer as swiftly as he could.
"I fully intend to," Vazkyr growled through clenched teeth.
"Don't stay... if it's just duty," Kanda managed, feeling himself drifting off again, "the wonders of Shevezz and centre of science...and all that."
Vazkyr smiled.
"It may be duty, but I also care, so I'll shield you from people like him," she pointed behind her, then reached for the notes that lay permanently by his bed.
"Your hydration is improving, pretty rapidly too. That's not standard, but you're not local," she reasoned, "don't move your feet if you can help it, that's where they're adding extra water in every now and again. Oh, and in case you're wondering, your two apples are on the side of your bed, along with your cloak."
"Will the apples be okay...in the morning?" he mumbled.
"Down here, away from the sun, most definitely. And I would advise you to eat both tomorrow. Because, although he is known for being excellent at his job, you will want to leave Syndat far behind," she giggled, despite herself, "you should prompt him for eyedrops though. The notes say you have unusual abrasions as though you have been through a dust storm," she paused, thinking, "but no major sand storm has kicked off for several days."
I probably flew through a puff of slowly-moving dust at an alarming rate, Kanda mused,
it's probably best I don't say that.
"I'll ask him. And yes, I do wish to leave him behind. Everyone should."
He nodded and carefully rolled back to check things were as she had said. As he fell back asleep he noticed, laid neatly on top of his cloak, reflecting the light of the crystal lanterns was his tarnished, but still clearly silver-plated fire brand.
Hùlán, he thought in horror,
day one, and they have evidence of my magecraft. They...know.
Vazkyr squeezed his shoulder again, then sat back in her chair and also fell asleep, knowing she could do so in peace.
Coming Soon: Seal of the Prince →
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